The thumps of your least favorite pop song bleeding from someone else’s headphones. Cocomelon blasting from a sticky iPad. The hubbub of a scrolling stranger’s Instagram feed. Another stranger’s endless phone call.

These are the sounds of public transport in the modern day. We live in a world where most people ride trains, buses and trams glued to their screens and hunched away from each other.

Are Bostonians guilty of it too? I spent 45 minutes riding the MBTA’s Green Line from Fenway to North Station and back to find out.

1:58 p.m. // All aboard.

The D-Line cruises into a sparse Fenway station. Three people board through the back doors, ignoring the glare of the ‘Tap to Pay’ screen.

The MBTA launched its new contactless ‘Tap-to-Pay’ system in August, 2024. More than half of Americans now rely on contactless payment everyday, paying their way through their phones or smartwatches.

Studies show 71% of global consumers prefer the convenience of the near-instant contactless transactions. Researchers believe our wallets – no longer stuffing up pockets and purses – are on the road to becoming completely digital.

2:01 p.m. // And we’re off.

About 10 people are settled in the second car of the first train as it creeps toward Kenmore station. Two college-aged friends giggle as they huddle over a single phone. They appear to be tandem-scrolling, sharing the buds of a slightly tangled pair of wired headphones.

Others also have AirPods lodged in or headphones hugging their ears. Some flip through their phones. Others just take momentary glances at their screen.

One middle-aged woman in scrubs rests her head against the window, gazing into the underground abyss.

2:06 p.m. // Crowd at Copley.

“This is Copley.” The conductor’s drawl precedes the stampede.

Passengers clamber in, quickly claiming the vacant seats and filling the space in between. A couple – both in clad in denim jackets – stand close together, each with one hand on an overhead handle. They whisper to each other and laugh.

A man – likely in his 20s – is squeezed up against one of the glass doors. He pulls out a dog-eared paperback and begins to read.

An older woman adorned with beaded jewelry sits next to me. She answers a FaceTime – there are no headphones in sight. Sigh.

2:13 p.m. // Seats = screens.

The beaded woman is still on her call. The train pulls into Park Street.

Dozens filter out. Nearly every seated passenger looks down at their phone. A toddler, ensnared by his stroller, reaches in vain for his mom’s device.

In 2020, the National Library of Medicine studied 1,230 subjects while they took 400 trips on public transport. They found whenever passengers were sitting, they were over 40% more likely to be using their phones.

2:17 p.m. // End of the line.

The conductor announces the train is out of service as it comes to a halt at North Station. Everyone files out, except a young man distracted by a mobile game.

I walk to the opposite platform to catch the train back towards Fenway. The space is crowded with people waiting. Most are gathered in chattering groups. Those traveling solo scroll on their devices.

The train destined for Riverside rolls up to the platform,

2:30 p.m. // A slight delay.

Somewhere between Boylston and Arlington, the screech of steel grinding on steel interrupts the stuffy silence that had settled in. The train comes to a sudden stop and the lights flicker off.

Only two of the 12 or so people in the car look up from their phones to investigate. The strangers exchange a “what-the-hell-was-that” glance, then turn their heads back down.

A minute later, the train jolts back to life. As it starts to move, the passengers shift to the side in one simultaneous movement. Most keep their eyes fixed to their screen.

2:39 p.m. // A close call.

The doors open at Kenmore. An older woman lugs four bags brimming with groceries onto the train. A man jumps up to help, grabbing one of the bags before it slipped off her shoulder. He offers her his seat and the two make a little small talk.

A woman sitting near the window puts in her headphones and pulls a small notebook from her bag. She taps her lips with a pen, then begins to write.

2:43 p.m. // Back at Fenway.

Light fills the car as the train emerges from the tunnel. All but a few passengers get ready to disembark at Fenway, wrapping wires around their phones before tucking them in their pockets.

The man carries two of the older woman’s grocery bags out for her, before getting back on the train. The doors close.